Why not songwriter-singer?

I was thinking today about the musical artist genre of singer-songwriter. Don't you think it should be called songwriter-singer?  There are musical artists who are known for their singing.  Elvis, in his prime, could have sung about lemonade and sold a million records.  Lionel Ritchie could (and did) sing some of the stupidest lyrics, but the majority of the world loved it because of his gifted voice.  We should all be thankful for great vocal ability.

But what would vocalists be without great songwriters?  Silly pop songs are fun for awhile, but a diet of candy all the time is sickening.  Powerful lyrics with strong imagery, clever wordplay, and poignant truths provide songs that not only last, but make a difference.  Sometimes these songs are written by an invisible person-- in the sense that they are seldom ever publicly recognized. We hear a singer sing a song, and we think only of the song belonging to the singer.

Some gifted songwriters have strong enough vocal ability and passion about their songs that they do both.  In some cases, it's a stellar success (like Bob Dylan or Willie Nelson), but most of the time, these artists have a small following of fans and never really achieve fame and commercial success.

Here's a short list of songwriter-singers who come to mind:
-- Rich Mullins
--Andrew Peterson
--Marc Cohn
--Bill Mallonee
--Neil Young
--Dan Fogleberg
--James Taylor


Who comes to mind for you?

The Yearling (A Book Review)

Like many people my age, I have been familiar with The Yearling for most of my life; however, I had never taken the time to read it.  A few months ago, I heard Andrew Peterson make mention of the novel in several of the songs on his new album, so I decided to give it a try.

Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings’ classic work is often thought of as a children’s book or even adolescent literature.  While it is something that will appeal to a child or young adult, the overarching themes of the book are certainly most appreciated by adults.  There are some exciting hunts and humorous scenes that will be enjoyed by all ages, but these are mere brush strokes of the artist, painting a larger portrait.  The portrait is complete at the end of the novel when we listen in on a man-to-man talk between the father, Penny Baxter, and the son, Jody.  We hear explicit statements about the hard life that Rawlings has illustrated so well throughout the novel.

We further see the struggle of parenthood—of knowing how much to shelter a child and how much to push him toward adulthood.  Jody Baxter has been sheltered by his father, and perhaps, this has made the passage so difficult.

Rawlings presents in a very subtle way, a parallel to the return of the prodigal son parable.  She gives us the emotions and thoughts of a young man struggling with his place and his role in life.  She gives us the most simple, yet profound, sentence in the novel:  “He was wanted.”  This sweet realization stands equal with the ring, the robe and the fatted calf of the biblical story.

I sense that many of my generation are wrestling with the disappointing truth that the vast majority of us have been raised as consumers, without much training in productivity or self-sufficiency.  Getting a glimpse into the world of the Baxters makes me aware of how easy our everyday lives are compared to that of our ancestors. Theirs was a simpler life, but more difficult than we can imagine.  It was a life that demanded wisdom, prudence, strength, and trust—a life from which we can learn much.